


Now My Friends Are Dead and Gone

by SunsetScomiche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aliens Attack NY, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Crying, Grief/Mourning, Les Misérables References, Loss, Other, POV First Person, Sad, Science Bros Week, Self-Hatred, Song fic, bruce's pov, it doesn't end well, team fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetScomiche/pseuds/SunsetScomiche
Summary: Based on "Empty Chairs At Empty Tables" fromLes Misérables. Bruce is grief-stricken after watching the other Avengers die around him in battle.





	Now My Friends Are Dead and Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure that many other authors have done this, but the idea struck me and I just couldn't shake it. I encourage you to listen to Peter Hollens' little snippet of the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2yVDaxhNT-Y) at 1:10 while reading.
> 
> Credits to the creators involved in both MARVEL, Avengers, etc. and _Les Misérables_.

_O my friends forgive me that I live and you are gone_

I remember it all with startling clarity. One by one, they all fell.

I choke on the memory now as I pull myself out of the dust. It’s all too painful, but it all comes back mercilessly.

I remember my friends fighting alongside me in a battle that they could not win. For a brief moment, I'd almost thought that I wouldn't win either, that I would be able to go down beside them, to finally fall with my friends. Then, the Hulk had ripped through me and I’d known that there was no hope of that. Everything after that is just a blur.

What I do remember is that every last one of my friends has died.

It's hard to imagine now, how I survived when they didn't. The science, the _reason_ in it doesn't make sense, and I can't wrap my mind around it beyond the sickening, all-encompassing grief. I turn over and wretch, sputter against the ground, but it's futile. I don't recognize the dirt underneath me, and I lift myself to look around. It's barren and the wind is blowing the thick dust all around me. The weight of being alone sinks down around me, and all I can do is start walking.

 _There's a grief that can't be spoken_ _  
_ _There's a pain goes on and on_

As I walk, I remember the things that happened before the rage. My mind always does this, supplies the memories in moments as soon as I awake. They return slowly, as if in doses.

The Hulk had been tearing through every enemy in sight, anything that could get near another teammate and hurt them. He had been doing well at it, and I’d told him as much, but it had been meant to get more out of him. I had known that, at the rate we were going, Hulk needed to do more. In the end, it didn't matter.

“‘Cause if we can't protect the Earth, you can be _damn sure_ we'll avenge it.”

Tony had said that, his eyes sharp and confident as he had stared down any enemy that dared face them. In the lab, Tony had been the same, calculated and brilliant, fighting against any challenge with force and will like no one else I’d ever met. I try to smile at the memory, but I just can't.

Tony is gone. I’ll never get to see him barrel through a problem like that again. The last thing I remember of Tony is seeing him fire into the creature attacking him, then a blast ripping its way through his suit, and finally a scream of pain that I probably won’t ever forget. Forgetting is not one of the mercies I am afforded as The Hulk.

I stop walking as tears start to brim in my eyes. Of all the things I hate about this, about being who I am – all the things that I’ve dealt with, the feelings I’ve suppressed, the people I’ve lost – there are so many things I have loved. I loved having the work and a decent reputation again. I loved cherishing that work when it had come in the form of our little team. I loved finding friendships again. I loved them enough to fear losing them simply because I couldn’t be trusted. Of all the hardships of being the Hulk, why did _this_ have to happen?

A pain courses through me that I can neither describe nor defeat. I feel my skin sear, my eyes wash with tears, and my heart fill with anger. But there’s no curling in my gut, no roaring beneath my chest. My anger, this time, is focused in on the Hulk.

"WHY COULDN'T I DIE?" I scream into the air. "WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST LET ME DIE?"

For once, the Hulk is cripplingly silent.

  
_Phantom faces at the window_ _  
_ _Phantom shadows on the floor_

 _Empty chairs at empty tables_ _  
_ _Where my friends will meet no more._

I reach the tower. It’s hard to believe that it's still there, standing, when all of its residents are gone. I slump over as I enter wordlessly. The tower is just as silent as the Hulk, and a hollow feeling rips through my chest. All of a sudden, I remembers the sight of an enemy reaching its sharpened claws straight into JARVIS' heart and then tearing. I remember watching the lights flashing around us and all of the screens in the room going blank. I force my feet forward, force myself not to think about it, or I might just throw up all over Tony's precious carpeting.

Tony.

I can almost see him now, standing at that bar, laughing and talking about the next prototyped suit, how fascinating it'll be when he releases it, how stunning he'll look in costume. He walks over to Steve and pokes at his shoulder. "Might even beat you this time," he says, and Steve just hangs his head and laughs sweetly.

A sob wrenches through me, and I jerk myself forward to escape it. My feet scrape against the floor as I step into the circle of space where we’d all talked and laughed. I can just see Thor standing there, larger than the furniture, larger than life, even though he hadn’t been larger than death. How I wish that he had.  
I look around the room, the emptiness of it all, knowing that we’ll never meet here again. The hand I have placed on the chair slips, sliding ever-slowly down the metal, and I sink to my knees and sob. The darkness and silence crash over me, cold and unforgiving and so, so lonely. I rock against the pain in my chest, crying out for my friends, for what they have done, for what the world has lost.

 _Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me_ _  
_ _What your sacrifice was for_

I asked Steve once, as we were sitting at one of Tony's parties, what made him so willing to sacrifice his life for his country. Steve had just looked into my eyes. From his stare, I knew that he saw all of the government torture I'd been subjected to, saw it reflected in how Bucky had been treated. His face had hardened then. Steve had known that his will to serve God and country was at a cost.

"I just... I know that there's people out there who are fighting for me. I want to do right by them."

I couldn't help but feel honored.

I always felt honored in their presence. Like when Natasha had somehow found out about my Aikido training, and Clint had invited me to spar with him and Natasha. I’d never been more scared in my life, but I accepted because I just couldn’t bring myself to decline. It was the best fun I’d ever had in a fight.

Tasha and Clint were without a doubt the best fighters I knew. Their strength and ability were matched only by their intelligence and stamina, and they never went into a fight without a singular goal in mind.

I asked them once after a particularly heavy round of getting my ass handed to me how they always managed to be so clear-minded and above it all. Clint just smiled.

“My family,” he’d said. Then it all made sense, the way he never went in without a plan, the way he always shot straight and took absolutely no prisoners. I remember feeling a surge of respect for him. I looked at Natasha, and she just shrugged. She nudged Clint’s elbow and I turned away.

Her voice sliced through the air then, clean and clear, and I turned back to face her.

“Hey Bruce, what are you fighting for?”

I thought about it, glancing down at the floor, and then I looked at them again.

I answered, “You guys, I think.”

  
_Empty chairs at empty tables_ _  
_ _Where my friends will sing no more._

When I finally lift my head, the emptiness has consumed me. Standing, I take slow, heavy steps toward the hall in silence. My entire body shakes as outside, the skies rumble and clap with a brewing storm. _How fitting_ , I think as I drag myself into the room and collapse onto the awaiting bed. I haven’t bothered to call Fury, or Coulson, or even Pepper. I’ll tell their families tomorrow, and I’ll share in their grief and try to bring them some form of comfort.

But for now, in this empty tower, where we spent our days laughing, singing even, talking of a better tomorrow; this tower that holds so many secrets, has so many stories, and has been filled with so much warmth, the same tower that now feels desolate and cold… In this place, I will mourn.

**Author's Note:**

> Are we all still okay? Anyone need tissues? How ‘bout a cookie? No? Okay. Happy Science Bros Week, everybody! Hope to see you again next year. :)


End file.
